Title: The Cat is a Cat
Author: clarkoholic
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2500
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Nathan; Jack, Zoe, Fargo, Nathan
Warnings: Spoilers for 304 "I Do Over"
Notes: This is not beta'd. All mistakes are mine. Written for starks_lab's 2009 "Hollywood Horror Tropes" Halloween Challenge. Enjoy!
Summary: He knows it's not possible and he knows she'll think he's crazy. He knows it like he knows that cat isn't a cat. OR The one where Nathan is a cat and Jack is insane.
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Jack first notices him while he's out at Seth's following up on another complaint. Fargo doesn't like Seth's new scarecrow. He says it's creepy and 'completely unnecessary because the stupid field already has a force shield protecting his 'precious' plants.' Jack's not too concerned about it. It's that time of the year when almost everyone in town has a scarecrow or has turned their yard into a temporary cemetery. Not to mention it's Fargo and Seth, the two men fight about everything.
He's humoring Fargo, nodding as the young man rambles that he swears he saw the scarecrow twitch, when he hears someone call his name.
He turns, looking back through the rows of plants. He doesn't see anything but he could've sworn he heard his name.
"Sheriff Carter." Fargo snaps his fingers at him, gaining Jack's attention. "Are you listening to me?"
"Uh, no." Jack ignores Fargo's stomp of protest and survey's the tall plants again, straining his neck to see farther. He knows he heard his name and the voice was all too familiar. The hair on the back of his neck is standing up and his heart is beating faster.
"Jack." It's a whisper near his ear. His head snaps to the other side, wildly looking for him but the empty rows reveal nothing other than flourishing vegetation.
"What is it?" Fargo peers down the rows, following Jack's gaze, then turns back to him. "Are you ok, Sheriff?"
"I… I don't know," Jack rubs the back of his head. "I thought I heard something."
Fargo leans closer, pushing onto his tiptoes. "It's the scarecrow," he whispers, thumbing toward the still figure hanging above them.
Jack looks up at the stuffed shape of a man, squinting as the sun blinds him, shining from behind the figure. He knows it's crazy but he almost believes Fargo. Not that he'd admit it. The scarecrow doesn't look possessed or haunted or even twitchy, but he can't shake the eerie feeling he's got in the pit of his stomach.
"Carter!" the familiar voice rings in his ears. Jack's eyes go wide and he stumbles a few steps away from the scarecrow. Fargo watches him with concerned eyes, obviously not hearing the voice.
"Sheriff, it's me," the voice is gentle now.
A shiver runs down Jack's spine.
-
Jack parks his Jeep in its usual spot outside of the bunker. He glances out the window and does a double take when he sees the black cat. It's sitting near the bunker's door, staring at him. Jack narrows his eyes and stares back.
It's the same cat that's been wandering around town for three days. He recognizes the distinctive green eyes. He knows those eyes.
Out of his peripheral vision, he can see Zoe's quiet car pull up beside his, but he doesn't take his gaze from the cat. It's still staring at him. A knock on the passenger window makes him tear his eyes away. Zoe's giving him a perplexed look.
"What are you doing?" she asks through the window.
"It's following me," he says, turning his attention back to the feline.
"What?" she looks and her expression lights up when she sees it. "A kitty!" She skips around his car, heading to the cat.
"Wait!" Jack fumbles with the door handle, quickly trying to get out of his car. "Zoe, don't," he hisses at her.
She stops, "Why are you whispering?"
"I don't want it to hear me."
She rolls her eyes, "Dad… it's a cat."
"No, it's not," he says and means it. Yes, the cat's been following him and yes, it looks like a cat but he knows it's not.
"What is wrong with you?" she asks, her playfulness replaced with genuine concern.
His voice is deadly serious. "It's him."
"Who?" She walks closer to him. "Dad, you're starting to freak me out."
He knows it's not possible and he knows she'll think he's crazy. He knows it like he knows that cat isn't a cat. "It's Stark." Just saying his name brings chills to Jack. Like he's finally admitting to himself what's really happening, as crazy as it may be.
He's waiting for her to tell him he's nuts and insist he be checked into the asylum but she laughs instead.
"What?" he says with the stomp of his foot. He realizes he probably looks like a three year old –or like Fargo– but she's still laughing. "It's really him!"
"You're so weird," she giggles, turning from him.
Jack reaches for her arm in an effort to stop her but she moves too quickly and walks straight to the little black cat. "Zoe, don't."
Jack's a little surprised when the cat doesn't run, or try to attack her, as she approaches. She kneels in front of it with her hands outstretched. "Hey pretty kitty," she coos. The cat purrs, turning into her hand as she pets him. She looks back to Jack, "See? He's nice."
"I think black cats are an omen." Jack walks up to her slowly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He doesn't want her to see how nervous he's feeling. A small cat shouldn't scare the town Sheriff but this one does more than he'd like.
"That's a superstition." She picks up the cat, cradling him in her arms. "Can we keep him?"
"No way." Jack takes a step back as she moves closer to him. "Keep it away."
"You can't be serious?" She looks at him incredulously. "Dad, it's a kitty. He's harmless."
"No, it's Stark, reincarnated or transformated or transfigured… or whatever, but it's him."
Zoe gives him a leveled look, "You're babbling."
"Zoooe," he whines, dragging out her name in the way he does when he's wants something from her. Right now, he wants her to believe him and leave the creepy, possessed cat outside and not take it into the comfort of his home. She ignores him and heads for the bunker, speaking softly to the kitty in her arms.
Jack follows her inside, huffing along the way, knowing he's lost the battle and she's keeping the cat. Not that he put up much of a fight. A part of him wants to keep the cat. It is Nathan, after all. S.A.R.A.H lets them in and immediately starts complaining about the cat's allergens affecting her systems.
Zoe tosses her bag on the couch and cuddles the cat closer. "What makes you think this adorable little cat is Dr. Stark?" She leans down, rubbing her cheek against the cat. She's playacting him and it's the first time he wishes she wasn't so darned rational and smart.
"First of all, it's following me." Zoe opens her mouth to tell him what he can only assume is a logical retort about cats not stalking people so he raises his hand to silence her. "I saw it three days ago in a lab at GD. Yesterday it was waiting outside of Café Diem and followed me for the rest of the day. This morning it was sitting on the hood of my Jeep. Now it's waiting for me when I get home! Not to mention the scarecrow!"
"What scarecrow?" Zoe asks, confused, as the cat hops from her arms and stalks along the back of the couch, staring once again at Jack.
"Oh did you see that?" Jack jump back, waving his arm at the cat. "It just rolled its eyes at me! Did you see it?"
"Dad." Zoe steps close and places her hands on his shoulders. She looks him in the eyes and speaks with an amused tone. "You are insane."
Jack is almost glad she thinks he's joking because he's beginning to think maybe he is insane. He sees Nathan everywhere he goes. If Beverly were still around –and not a manipulative traitor– he thinks she would tell him he's grieving and his mind is playing tricks on him. Or that he's insane.
He huffs, defeated. "I know."
-
Jack sleeps fitfully. He dreams Nathan is chasing him, dressed as a terrifying version of the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz. He wakes covered in sweat. He sits up, breathing heavily and pulls his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on them. A chill creeps up his back, making his bare, shirtless skin shiver.
"S.A.R.A.H," he calls, the cool air gradually becoming colder against his clammy skin. "What're you trying to save on the energy bill? Turn the heat up."
S.A.R.A.H doesn't respond as she usually does and the cold air turns frigid. He pulls his head up, beginning to worry where S.A.R.A.H is, especially when his breath billows like a cloud in the cold air.
"Jack."
His head snaps to the corner of his bedroom to see –and see-through– Nathan standing there, hands clasped together, wearing the same suit he wore the day he died. Jack scurries back on the bed until his back hits the solid headboard.
"Hi," Nathan simply says. He looks at Jack with piercing eyes that are filled with longing.
Jack stares at him. "Uh…" is all he can manage. Earlier in the day, he was absolutely sure that Nathan was still around but now, when he has the undeniable evidence in front of him, he can't believe it.
Nathan steps closer to the bed but he looks more like he's floating and Jack thinks he must be dreaming because there's no way Nathan is floating at him. The word 'ghost' flashes in his mind but he ignores it because it can't be. "I'm dreaming," he whispers, looking away from the apparition in front of him.
"No you're not."
"Right." Jack nods, like he's confirming what he's been thinking for the last week. He's certifiable and this –hallucination?– proves it. "Then I'm insane."
"Again, no. I'm sorry if I scared you before."
"Oh you mean in the field when you made me look like I was hearing voices?"
Nathan grins, "Yeah. That."
"And the cat?"
"Yes, me again." Nathan replies, like it's the most normal thing in the world to say he was the cat.
"I knew it wasn't a cat," Jack says triumphantly.
"Actually," Nathan says in the tone Jack is all too familiar with. The I'm-about-to-correct-your-mistake-and-make-you-feel-like-an-idiot tone. "That cat is a cat. I was merely… borrowing him."
"Oh, naturally." Jack feels like he's taking this better than he should and he wonders if that's good or bad. "Are you a ghost?" He feels stupid even asking because it's absurd but he doesn't know what else to think.
"Yes."
"Why are you here?" Jack's seen Ghostbusters enough to know it's not a good thing when a ghost visits in the middle of the night.
Nathan grins and practically rolls his eyes when he says, "Unfinished business."
"How cliché," Jack replies playfully.
"Yes, well, apparently I can't… 'move on' until I do this." Nathan's smile has vanished. He takes a breath, more out of habit than necessity. "Jack, I have to tell you something."
Jack nods, "Ok."
"I… hm." Nathan is obviously uncomfortable. It's unnerving for Jack to see him so vulnerable; he's not used to Nathan showing so much of himself. Jack's not sure he's seen the other man express many emotions other than irritation and intrigue.
"I want, no, I need to tell you how I feel…" Nathan pauses, taking another unnecessary breath, "…about you."
Jack has to suppress his knee-jerk reaction to joke that telling someone you hate them won't get you into heaven, because he can see the significance of what's happening. Nathan's demeanor shows no sign of hatred and he wonders why it took him this long to figure it out.
"Since I died, I've been in this limbo. It came to my attention that in order to continue on to whatever comes next, I have to resolve some things." Jack's stomach does a flip but he remains quiet while Nathan speaks. "I have thought about this a lot and after some deliberation, I can now admit and accept what I never could when I was alive."
Jack knows what he's saying. He feels it too; he's felt it since Nathan died and he realized he was grieving for more than the loss of a friend. He takes a deep breath and holds it as Nathan says the words he's been contemplating since that terrible day. "I had feelings for you, Jack. I think I may have even loved you."
Jack looks away and nods, feeling a little like he was just punched in the gut. "Past tense noted."
Nathan laughs but there's no joy in it. "I don't have a present. Not anymore."
Jack scrubs his face and groans. He feels a growing frustration, wondering why Nathan couldn't have figure out his feelings when he was alive. He's mad at himself for not realizing his own feelings too. They were both finally acknowledging what was between them but it was too late to do anything about it. "This sucks."
Nathan doesn't respond and Jack looks at him, disappointment is written across his features. Jack gets out of the bed and walks to the ghost of a man. "Me too," he says, simply and sincere, and it brings some semblance of joy to the green eyes. "I'm sorry," Jack says.
Nathan's brow knits together, "Why?"
"For not telling you when it mattered."
"We're both guilty of that," Nathan says softly. He's beginning to disappear, his foggy, see-through form becoming lighter.
Jack feels like his world is crumbling again, like the day Nathan stepped into that particle accelerator. "Do you have to go?"
"Yes," Nathan says, his eyes sad. "I'm ready now."
"Wait," Jack pleads.
"I can't stay."
Jack watches in horror as Nathan's form begins to disperse into a bright white mist. It's eerily similar to the way he died and Jack's automatically moving in an effort to stop him. "Please," he says. "Don't go."
"Goodbye, Jack." He hears Nathan's voice but he's gone. Gone forever this time.
"Stay with me," he pleads to his empty bedroom. The warmth returns to the air but Jack shivers.
-
"Good Morning," Zoe says, bouncing down the stairs, the black cat at her heels.
"Mornin'," Jack grumbles into his beer.
"Whoa," Zoe stops when she sees him sitting on the sofa in the dark, drinking. "A little early for that, don't you think?"
"I've been up a while." He doesn't elaborate and his tone is harsh enough for her not to question him.
The cat jumps onto the sofa and curls up next to Jack's thigh. He looks down at it, noticing it still has the distinctive green eyes that he thought were Nathan's. He rests his hand on the cat's back and it purrs.
Zoe smiles, "I thought you didn't want to keep him?"
Jack looks at the little furry ball under his hand and feels his warmth and softness, and he grins. "Yeah, maybe he's not so bad."
"Why the sudden change of heart?"
Jack thinks for a moment. "I resolved some unfinished business."
"With cats?" Zoe raises an eyebrow.
"With this cat," he says, smiling.
The end.